Sweet Disposition
by bravevulnerability
Summary: "This is a bad idea," Kate whispers as Lanie fluffs the skirt of her dress. Her best friend straightens to adjust the stray curls of Kate's hair, ensuring the pretty bun at her nape is secure. "A little late to be getting cold feet, honey." Set any time between 4x10, 'Cuffed', and 4x11, 'Till Death Do Us Part'.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Set any time between 4x10, 'Cuffed', and 4x11, 'Till Death Do Us Part'.**

* * *

"This is a bad idea," Kate whispers as Lanie fluffs the skirt of her dress.

Her best friend straightens to adjust the stray curls of Kate's hair, ensuring the pretty bun at her nape is secure.

"A little late to be getting cold feet, honey," Lanie says under her breath. "Besides, I don't know why you're even freaking out. It's a fake wedding to lure out a newlywed obsessed serial killer. Sounds right up your alley."

Beckett huffs as the wedding march begins to play and Lanie shoves the bouquet into her hands.

"C'mon, girl," Lanie reasons, moving to stand in front of her before the double doors can open to reveal her. "I know you can kill an undercover mission, especially when you've got your boy as your backup."

_That_ was the problem. When she and Castle go undercover, it tends to go _too_ well.

And always seems to end with his mouth on hers.

It's a guaranteed part of today's mission and it doesn't end there. She has to unofficially marry him, continue the ruse through a brief reception at the hotel he too generously volunteered to book for the event, and then they have to sneak away to their honeymoon suite for the night.

Their wedding night.

Her hands won't stop shaking.

Kate sucks in a breath and clutches the bouquet as the doors to the church their suspect has been using to scout for couples are pulled open and the congregation of actors hired by the owners of the venue turn to place all eyes on her.

But she automatically searches for him.

At the other end of the aisle with Ryan as his best man, she catches a glimpse of Castle over Lanie's shoulder, wearing thick, black framed glasses to make his identity a little less obvious and a crisp black tux that she knows must fit his frame well, accentuating the breadth of his chest and the strength in his shoulders.

His body built muscle over the summer, has grown visibly firmer in certain places, not exactly making the process of 'waiting' any easier. But she can't think about that now, can't think about the wall or how badly she already wants it to come down, about the way he looks at her every morning when he presents her with a cup of coffee, about the bullet scar currently itching between her breasts.

She's walking down the aisle, about to fake marry him for the sake of snagging a killer's attention, and she needs to focus solely on that. But when she and Lanie reach the front of the church and her maid of honor steps to the side, offering her a clear view of her 'fiancé', the expression on his face, the pure awe in his eyes… she knows she's screwed.

Castle holds out his hand to her, dialing back the adoration that claimed his face, trading it in for a warm smile that soothes the skipping of her heart. She grips his fingers and moves to stand with him at the altar, before a church full of strangers, three of their friends, and the handful of undercover officers blended throughout the meager crowd.

"You look beautiful," Castle breathes, sweeping his eyes over the simple but elegant dress Lanie helped her find last minute and within Gate's enforced budget, even though Castle repeatedly offered to give her his credit card. "Kate-"

The pastor officiating the ceremony clears his throat. Castle zips his lips while hers quirk with an overdue smile.

"Thanks, Castle," she murmurs, squeezing the hand in hers as the officiant begins to speak, putting on the usual show, one he isn't aware is all a fraud this time.

"And now for the vows," the older man announces, nodding to Castle first.

Her heart flutters with nerves, with something more, as he withdraws a piece of paper from within his jacket, hesitating as he stares down at the notecard. They both had the night to prepare their vows, but the index card she glared at all evening remained blank. There's only one word he would need from her anyway.

But Castle crumbles the vows written like a script and meets her eyes as the paper crunches in his palm, gazing at her like she's the only person in the room.

"Kate, the moment I met you," he begins, his voice quiet, subdued, as if the words really are meant for her and her alone. "My life became extraordinary."

She knows before he even continues that there's no way she's surviving this.

"You've taught me more about myself than I ever thought there was to learn. You're the most remarkable person I've ever met, the most maddening and challenging." His lips quirk and he strokes his thumb over one of the fingers still tangled with his. "You're the joy in my heart and the mystery I want to spend the rest of my life exploring because I... love you, Kate Beckett, and-"

She isn't thinking when she steps forward, one of her hands still encased in his while the other ascends to his cheek, cradles it in her palm as she seals a kiss to his lips.

Castle goes rigid beneath her, a quick intake of breath causing his chest to hitch against hers, before he covers the hand at his cheek, strokes his thumb over her knuckles.

"Excuse me," the priest hisses under his breath. Kate startles, almost curses herself aloud, and jerks back from Castle. "I'll take that as _your_ vows, Miss," the older man mutters, casting a long suffering look to them both. She can feel her flesh on fire, mortified and a little shocked by her own actions. But Castle is watching her with awe in his eyes, soft and breathtaking and just shy of too much. It horrifies and helps her at the same time. "Now, if you'll just exchange the rings, you may resume in your kissing of the bride."

Castle grins and produces the simple gold band within seconds, but it takes her a moment, with her trembling fingers and overheated cheeks, to fish hers from the small strip of fabric at the waist of her dress.

She kissed him. Not for the sake of the ruse, not even at the right time, and - and shit, everyone saw and Castle probably thinks-

Rick lifts her hand, slides the ring onto her fourth finger, brushes his thumb over the spot once the jewelry is in place. She meets his eyes with the tentative rise of hers, finds him staring back at her with a calming shade of blue that reminds her of the ocean, reminds her to breathe. Beckett mimics his actions, steadies his left hand in hers, and eases the ring onto his finger.

"Finally," the priest mumbles under his breath before pasting on a smile for the congregation. "By the power vested in me by the state of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss your bride. Again."

Their audience rumbles with quiet laughter that Kate can hardly hear over the rush of blood through her ears. It's far more nerve-wracking this time, knowing what's coming rather than acting on impulse.

Castle drapes his hands at her waist while hers curl in the lapels of his suit, and then he's leaning in, whispering a kiss over her lips that is hardly a kiss at all. Hardly convincing of a newlywed couple who are supposed to be madly in love.

Hardly matching the kiss she pressed to his mouth only moments before.

Kate tugs on his lapels, swallows his gasp as she kisses him firmly on the mouth, smirking as he tightens his grip on her hips.

That earns them the applause, the wolf whistle that she just knows has to belong to Esposito at the back of the church.

When Kate withdraws, she has to press two fingers to his chin to stop him from chasing her mouth.

"That was better than my first two weddings combined," he breathes into the space between them. Kate rolls her eyes, but her skin is on fire all over again.

* * *

After the ceremony, they convene with the boys in the bride and groom's white limo on the way to their fake reception.

"I'm going out on a limb here, but I think you guys were good enough to hook our guy's attention," Ryan announces as they all settle into the back, the driver an officer from the Twelfth and already maneuvering through traffic to start towards the nearby hotel Castle and Beckett will be staking out in for the night.

Esposito smirks, loosening the bowtie at his neck. "Yeah, those were some vows, Castle. Made Beckett break character and everything."

"Excuse me?" Beckett interrupts, arching an eyebrow at the two of them while she adjusts the lace embroidered sleeves of her gown. "I never broke character. What bride would have just stood there during those vows?"

She watches their confidence waning under her reasoning, feels Castle's amused gaze flicker towards her, but he won't say anything, even if he does know the truth.

"It was either kiss him or cry and I'm not one for tears," she shrugs. "Now, are we going to discuss the home stretch of this assignment or did you guys want to keep gushing over Castle's way with words?"

"I am not opposed to either," Rick pipes up, sipping from a glass of the champagne provided for them.

Both of the boys grudgingly straighten, Esposito muttering under his breath how he knew all along.

"Okay, so the guy apparently favors the honeymoon suites of the hotel the church has a contract with. Or, at least, that's been his M.O for this long, but I don't see it changing. Our perp is all about rage, not strategy."

Beckett's listening to Esposito as he goes over their killer's profile, but her mind is also wandering to that damn honeymoon suite they're going to be stuck in, the potential hours she could spend locked in there with Castle. Their suspect has never struck at one specific time, Lanie discovering varying times of death amidst the three couples that have been killed thus far. All Beckett knows with certainty is that they've moved past being doe eyed newlyweds and onto lovers about to experience the oh so magical wedding night.

She doesn't think she's going to survive this either.


	2. Chapter 2

Castle wishes they were staying longer at the reception, but it doesn't seem to be a vital part of their killer's routine. Too much open space, too many witnesses, too much attention. So he's only allowed an hour of smiling at strangers with Kate at his side, pretending that he's lucky enough to call her his wife.

"Not so bad?" he murmurs, brushing his knuckles along the base of her spine. He forces his lungs to expand with a breath as she leans further into him at the touch he's learned fuses comfort through her bones.

Kate has her arms around his neck, fingers bridged at his nape as they sway back and forth to their fifth song of the night, their last dance. He barely survived the first, all eyes on them while his remained stuck on her, soaking in every inch of her before he was forced to let her go again.

She shakes her head, the honey brown tendrils of her hair caressing her cheeks. "Not bad at all. You make a great fake husband, Castle."

He huffs, but her lips are spreading into a grin, revealing teeth as white as her dress.

He doesn't think he's ever getting over the sight of Kate Beckett in a wedding dress.

"The feeling is mutual, Mrs. Castle," he says with a smirk, but she merely rolls her eyes.

"It's supposed to be Rodgers for this assignment," she reminds him, her thumb sweeping back and forth through the soft hair at the base of his skull.

"Mrs. Rodgers," he corrects, thoughtlessly unfurling his hand at her back, savoring the lace trim and layer of chiffon beneath his palm. She told him that Lanie helped her find the dress in a matter of hours and under a strict budget, but she makes it look as if it's designer, a priceless gem of a gown. "Is this the style you would have chosen for yourself?"

She tilts her head in question and he grazes his thumb to edge of the bodice at her hip.

"The dress? Not necessarily," she murmurs, her gaze drifting to the skirt swirling softly at her ankles. "I think if I got married, I'd probably want to wear my mom's. It has a few similar details, but it's… different, special. Still pretty simple."

"No ball gowns for you, Detective?" he muses, earning an immediate scoff. "What about the ceremony itself? Do you see yourself getting married in a church like our false identities did today?"

Kate hums, contemplative as he pulls her a little closer to avoid another couple twirling by. "No, I'd want something more intimate. Just me and the groom, the people I care about."

Her eyes flicker to his face, drop shyly to his chin.

"What about you? If you went for that third time?" she teases, squeezing lightly at the back of his neck.

"Definitely simpler," he nods, wishing he could memorize the feeling of her hands so warm and relaxed at his nape, of her body so at ease in his arms. "Like you said, intimate. My place in the Hamptons, I think I'd want to do something there, just me, my bride, our friends and family."

"The Hamptons, huh?"

"Oh yeah, Beckett. My backyard has this incredible view of the ocean and the sunset, I could just add something like a… a small platform maybe?"

"A dais?" she fills in with a quirk of her brow.

"Yeah, one of those. An elegant white one. I could have flowers or lights, something like that twined through it-"

"Remind me to let you do all the planning if we ever-" Her body stills, going rigid and taut in his arms, all of the beautiful color immediately draining from her face and leaving her paler than the white of her dress.

_If we ever._

Rick runs his hand halfway up her spine, stopping just below her shoulder blades, before he can touch bare skin, and waits to feel the rush of breath back into her lungs. They both know what she meant, where that sentence was headed, but he won't demand anything of her for it, won't even pretend he needs to hear the rest of it.

_If we ever get married._

He strokes his hand down her spine, draws some of the tension from her vertebrae with the soothing brush of his knuckles until she begins to sink into him.

"Will do," he murmurs, the heat of her exhale spilling out across his throat.

Kate swallows hard and lowers her head to his shoulder, turning her face away from him, but keeping her cheek to his collarbone.

He's already planning their real wedding in his head.

* * *

Castle sits perched on the edge of the bed in their honeymoon suite, staring down at the discarded rose petals he quickly swept from the surface of the comforter while Kate excused herself to the bathroom to change. He tries not to think about their fake wedding, their fake reception, while he waits for her.

He tries not to think about the way her face broke open in gentle surprise at the vows he was turning over in his head that entire morning despite being supplied with a strict script for his 'character'. He tries not to remember how her eyes glimmered at the raw truth of words meant only for her, how she kissed him with such devastating sweetness, so warm and impulsive and _real_.

He tries not to think about how they danced in a ballroom like they were the only people there, like the moment was really meant for them and not for the sake of enticing a serial killer. He tries not to think about how she almost confessed to imagining a future with him, one in which he got to marry her.

He tries to reason that she was probably just caught up in the moment each time, in the magic that comes with weddings and undying promises of love, pretty words and dresses. _But_ \- his own mind counters - is Kate Beckett really the type to be swept away by bridal gowns and floral arrangements, by marriage vows that were supposed to be a sham and dancing that was supposed to be as choreographed as this entire undercover assignment, by the whirlwind of a wedding?

It doesn't matter. She isn't ready, a faux marriage isn't going to change that, and it's _fine_. He can keep waiting, he will; it'll just be a little harder now after kissing her again for the first time in over a year, twice in one day, and feeling her smile against his lips.

Thank god this entire ordeal is almost over, in the final stretch, like she said in the limo. They really don't even have to _do_ anything anymore, just wait for their killer to make his move. Who knew this would be the easy part of the operation.

The door to the bathroom eases open and he attempts not to appear so obvious as Kate emerges from the en suite, hastily snagging a brochure from the nightstand and pretending to peruse it with intense curiosity.

"Hey Beckett, they offer a discount on a honeymoon cruise to the Bahamas if you stay more than one night," he announces with a chuckle. "Want to try and convince Gates to…"

All the words, all coherent thoughts, die on his tongue as he looks up. His mouth goes dry at the sight of her in white lace, lingerie that drapes over the the length of her body, clinging to curves, whispering over bones and - and he knew they would have to appear as if they really were in the midst of their wedding night, but he wasn't prepared for - for _this_. Not at all.

"I - wow," he manages, croaks. She clutches the silk white robe rippling over her shoulders and swirling at her legs, failing to cover much. Castle quickly tears his eyes away from her, probably making her even more uncomfortable, and does his best to clear his throat. "Sorry, I just wasn't expecting-"

She chuckles, soft and understanding. "I know. Should've warned you there was one last wardrobe change involved."

"Trying to kill me instead, Beckett? I see how it is," he teases, adjusting his own robe, because his usual nighttime attire of a t-shirt and boxers didn't feel nearly proper enough for his first night with his 'wife'. That's what a suspicious serial killer might think, anyway. He's wearing the Italian silk boxers he favors beneath the white plush of the hotel robe, nothing else, but he plans to slip on a t-shirt once the lights are off and the curtains are drawn over the windows they've purposely left uncovered.

"Actually, staying alive is the objective for this one," she muses, drifting towards the windows across the room.

He risks a glance from below his lashes to watch her make a show of drawing the curtains shut, the implication to anyone who may be spying from the outside quite clear. If this was real, if this was their wedding night, Kate would grin at him over her shoulder as she closed the final set of drapes, she would let the robe slip from her shoulders as she turned towards him, or maybe she would leave it on, let him ease the silk from her shoulders himself, witness it whisper down her arms to reveal the bare skin beneath the delicate lace and silk.

If this was their wedding night, he wouldn't be staring a hole into the ground in his attempt not to gaze at her.

"You mentioned your other two weddings."

His eyes snap up to her at that, can't help it. She's not looking at him, drifting away from the curtains to circle the bed, approaching the opposite side.

"Hmm?" he answers thoughtlessly.

"At the altar, after we - when it was over, you mentioned your first two weddings, the real ones." There's amusement in the line of her mouth, but she's running a hand through the loose curls of her hair now free from the bun she wore for the wedding. "Just makes me wonder what they were like."

"Oh." Well, this has to go against some kind of rule, right? Talking about past weddings, past relationships, with his new… his new nothing. Kate isn't his. "They were okay. Despite her flair for the spotlight, my wedding with Meredith was pretty small, quick. She was already showing with Alexis and didn't want anyone to know yet."

"Ah," Kate murmurs, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Too far away, but close enough for him to catch a breath of her scent - cherries, vanilla, and something sweet that isn't usually there.

"As for Gina, well, she planned it all, so I just had to show up," he shrugs, wincing a little at the memory of that one. "But it was actually pretty stressful. Her dad hated me, something happened with her veil a few minutes before the ceremony and she was freaking out, then all the white doves flew away-"

He glances up at the choked sound of her laughter, catches her with a hand pressed to her mouth.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, but his lips are splitting into a grin to match hers. "No, really, that's terrible. Gina must have been-"

"_Livid_. You think you've seen her angry when I'm behind on my writing? That's nothing compared to this. I thought she might kill someone - ooh, how cool would that have been? You would have had to investigate my wedding."

Kate shakes her head, her hair falling over her shoulder. "Doesn't sound too appealing."

"I could have met you sooner," he points out, as if that explains it all. As if that would have made up for his ruined wedding.

Maybe it would have. Maybe he would have seen Kate Beckett the rookie cop and maybe she would have struck a match to his insides the same way she did over three years ago at his book party. Maybe she would have inspired him to be a runaway groom.

"Would've been like Kyra's wedding all over again," she mutters, not bitter, but…

"What does that mean?" he inquires, shifting on the bed to sit back against the headboard, curious.

He watches her fidget with the ring on her finger and bite her bottom lip, the flesh blooming red beneath the pressure of her teeth. "Nothing."

"Oh, c'mon," he whines, trying to reel her back in. "I didn't mean it in a wedding crasher way, just that maybe you would have saved me from another bad decision."

"Or caused a different one," she counters, finally returning her gaze to him, eyes shining with all the things she isn't saying. Things he doesn't understand. She sighs when he only continues to stare at her. "You would just be someone else's, so what's the point?"

His heart stutters, but he's quick to swallow, push forward before he can process her words, let them sink in and steal his.

"If I saw you, I wouldn't be anyone else's. I couldn't be." She doesn't look like she's breathing, but her brow still manages to furrow. "It wasn't even fair to Gina this last time around. I mean, inevitably, it was never going to work, but I never should have started anything with her when you were-"

"Castle." She stops him with the sharp yet breathless call of his name, but she's not looking at him anymore. Her eyes are trained on the knot of her hands in her lap. "Why are you telling me this?"

"To be fair, you brought it up," he murmurs, doing his best to remain casual about it. To not answer her question honestly.

_Because you should know. _

_Because as long as there's you, there never could be anyone else. _

_Because I love you. _

But she's rising from the bed, pacing towards the bathroom, and he should give her space, he knows, but-

"Kate." She pauses, the harsh outline of her back, the wings of her shoulder blades and the sliver of her spine beneath the robe, calling to him, tempting him to stand, go after her before she can escape for good. But she wouldn't be ready for that, for what he wants. She isn't ready, but he says it anyway. "In the future or in the past, it would always be you."


	3. Chapter 3

She's hiding in the bathroom like a damn child.

His words made her do what she does best - run. Even trapped in a hotel suite with him, she still managed to run away.

Kate tightens her fingers around the porcelain edge of the sink and glares at herself in the mirror. The column of her throat is flushing red, the swells of her breasts peppered with pink that she can't hide because the stupid robe keeps slipping. She doesn't even have an extra set of clothes to change into in here, leaving them outside with the rest of her baggage, so she's stuck hiding away in lingerie she should have known was the stupidest idea possible.

There were other ways to convince their killer of their wedding night activities without her slipping into silk and lace. Whether she wants to admit it or not, she just wanted to tempt fate, toe the line, see just how strong the brick of her wall is. Would it be enough to keep them from each other on a night like this?

It didn't matter, doesn't matter. She was selfish to torture him like this, foolish to torture herself. But that's all she's been doing since she woke up with a bullet hole in her chest, isn't it?

Her eyes begin to sting and she quickly squeezes them shut. She can't cry, not here, not now, not when he's sitting outside probably worrying about her having a mental breakdown in the bathroom.

_I want to be more._

_This isn't the way, Kate_, she can practically hear Burke's voice in her head.

"Kate?"

She's freaking out for nothing. So he let a few things slip, so has she; she blames it on the day, the wedding, the natural spike in emotions. But they can move past it, put it all on hold until she's ready.

Will she ever be ready?

"Listen, I'm sorry if what I said upset you, if it was too much," Castle sighs from the other side of the door, his voice muffled, but genuinely apologetic. She hates it. "But it doesn't have to change anything. We're still waiting, I have no problem waiting for you."

She hates that he's sorry, hates that they're stuck like this, hates waiting.

"Look, I'll camp out on the couch, okay? Just - don't stay locked up in the bathroom. It's not safe and we should be together. For the sake of the stakeout," he adds quickly.

But it isn't fair to him. Not if he has to wait forever.

"I don't want you on the couch," she gets out, stepping away from the sink and tightening the sash around her waist to try and keep the robe in place. "I don't want…"

Kate reaches for the handle of the door, curling her fingers around the elegant gold knob and taking a breath.

"Kate?"

She drops her head to the frame of the door and closes her eyes. But all she sees is his face when he was saying those damn vows.

_You're the most remarkable person I've ever met, the most maddening and challenging. You're the joy in my heart and the mystery I want to spend the rest of my life exploring._

"What don't you want?" he presses, patient but with a touch of desperation to his words. She hopes he doesn't think that sentence ends with 'you'.

_Because I love you, Kate Beckett. _

Kate opens her eyes.

"You meant them, didn't you?"

She doesn't hear it, but she swears he's sucking in a breath on the other side.

"The vows?" She loves and hates how quickly he manages to catch on, how easily he's able to track her train of thought and just hop on board without question. "Of course I meant them," he answers, soft but certain, strong in it. "Probably should have saved them for the day I hope to marry you for real, but-"

"_Castle_," she chokes, half panic, half exasperation. But he only chuckles at her expense.

"You don't have to say anything back," he gentles, his voice dropping into that low, rich tone she's heard him use to soothe Alexis over a teen dilemma, to calm a victim's family member during an interview at work, to say her name when her world feels like it's falling apart. "But if it doesn't scare you too much, if I'm allowed to tell you I love you, then I'm never going to stop telling you."

She bites so hard on her bottom lip that the metallic taste of copper spreads across the tip of her tongue.

"What if I can't say it back yet?"

He doesn't miss a beat. "Yet?"

Her lips quirk despite it all. "Yeah, Castle."

"Kate," he sighs, so soft and reassuring, all she needs. "Yet is more than enough for me."

She opens the door.

* * *

The door eases open and his heart stutters, stops, and starts again as she appears in the slit of the entryway. Her eyes rise to him with a hint of shame, apology, a quirk of her mouth.

"Hey," he says, like an idiot, but it only has her gaze growing softer.

"It won't be forever," she murmurs instead, trapping that poor bottom lip between her teeth again. "Not even for long, I just - I want to do this right, Castle. I want the wall to be gone, not between us, not-"

"Even if I'm already inside it?" Her brow rises, but she doesn't look upset, unsettled, so he tries to explain. "I meant what I said, I don't mind waiting, Kate. We can wait as long as you want, go at whatever speed you prefer, but it just seems… wouldn't it be more productive for me to help you break down the wall from the inside instead of leaving you to do it by yourself?"

She drops her eyes to their feet. "I don't want you to get lost in the wreckage of it."

He refrains from scoffing at her, from saying it's already too late.

"Kate, I just want to be with you," he murmurs, reaching for one of the hands at her sides. She lets him have it without hesitation, fingers slipping through his with ease. "Wall or no wall, as your friend or as more-"

"More," she says, tightening her fingers around his, her wedding ring cutting into his skin. "Always more."

Shit, his heart is catching on fire.

"I want to be more for you," she adds, his knuckles brushing the silk of her robe as she draws him closer, but he's too perplexed by her response to react to the sensual kiss of fabric.

"More?" he echoes, risking it all and lifting his free hand to her cheek. He caresses the harsh bone of her jaw before he lets his fingers unfurl along her skin, the slash of her bone. He really has to focus to refrain from getting lost in the sensation of her skin against his palm, how he's allowed to touch her like this when it's only the two of them in the room, no roles to play. "What are you talking about? You're already - you're more than enough, you're everything. You're-"

She's rising on her toes, kissing him for a third time in one day, before he can ramble on about how much he loves her, make an even bigger fool of himself. But Kate doesn't seem to think he's a fool at all, not if the caress of her mouth over his, the ascending cover of her hand over his at her cheek, is any indication.

"You love me too much, Castle," she whispers, almost mournfully, against his lips. He doesn't think this time, simply shakes his head in dismissal, and bumps his nose against hers.

"Not possible." He steals one last kiss from her mouth, chaste and fleeting. "Love you just enough for now."

She buries her huff of amusement against his cheek, the rest of her body curling into the cove of his. He still hasn't managed to regain his breath.

Rick lets go of her hand to band an arm around her waist, the other slipping from her face to curve at her nape, tangle in the waves of her hair. He can feel her heartbeat calming against his chest, can feel her body sinking into his, her lips at his neck. She stains a kiss to his throbbing pulse.

"Beckett." He swallows hard. "Where do we go from here?"

Her breasts brush his chest as she takes a deep breath, but then her spine is straightening and her shoulders are rolling, shrugging so effortlessly from the silk of the robe. It ripples down her arms like a waterfalls, rushes to the floor in a puddle around their feet, leaving her in nothing but the lingerie that takes his breath away.

"Kate-"

"To bed," she murmurs, hooking her fingers around the belt of his robe. The cool air of their hotel room whispers across his chest as the fabric begins to part, but he catches her hands, the robe, seals her and the plush material to his sternum.

He narrows his eyes on her, questioning without saying a word, because he has to. He can't just take advantage of the moment, of her, especially not now, not after making so much progress.

She holds his gaze and leans in closer, tilting her chin and grazing her lips over his in a breath of a kiss. "Castle, I just want you." Her fingers unfurl beneath his to release the robe, climbing upwards instead to scale along his neck, cradle his face in her palms. "You're all I want."

"I - it's mutual," he gets out, practically gasping around the words. "I just don't want that to change, for you to regret it if-"

"I would never regret you," she counters, surprising him with her vehemence, with the fierce spark of gold in her eyes. "I know I can't give you much, but I can promise you that."

Something inside his chest eases.

He returns his hands to her waist, the flare of her spine and jut of her hips beneath his palms. The robe falls away from his upper body, catching on his arms, but exposing his chest, exposing everything the suddenly small pair of boxers leave uncovered.

She isn't shy about allowing her eyes to wander, linger, darken.

"You're beautiful," she murmurs, trailing one of her hands from his cheek to his chest, searing a path down his skin.

He releases a quiet laugh, but his heart is picking up speed again and her hand is halfway down his ribs. "That should be my line."

"Mm," she shakes her head, sends an eruption of goosebumps across his skin as she traces fingertips down his abdomen, hooks them in the waistband of his boxers. He's seen the kinds of men Kate usually dates, the body type she gravitates towards; he likes his body, but he's never considered himself exceptionally built. He meant to hit the gym before her wall came down. But the way she's looking at him now… maybe he doesn't need to quite as badly as he thought. "Still true."

She lifts her eyes back to his mouth, her gaze like gold and caressing his lips. Her hand falls away from his boxers to steal his from her hip bone, clasping his fingers while she takes a step away from the bathroom. Back towards the bed and drawing him after her.


	4. Chapter 4

He has to ask. She's wearing gorgeous white lingerie and watching him with bedroom eyes, better than any daydream or fantasy he's ever had, but he still has to risk ruining it all with another question.

"What happens after this?"

Kate glances back to him over her shoulder, an eyebrow raised. "Which part?"

His cheeks grow hot and her smile grows wider before she slows to a stop at the edge of the bed, taking a breath as she turns to face him again.

"I don't know exactly what happens next," she admits, their twined hands hanging between them. "I'm obviously not the best at this, but I - I hope we can figure it out together."

He tightens his hand around hers, watches some of the trepidation tugging at the corners of her mouth ease.

"Can I call you my girlfriend?" he asks, because she just looks so small and afraid in that moment, standing vulnerable before him in an off white chemise that highlights the gold of her skin, the pink in her cheeks, the hope colliding with the terror in her eyes.

Her lips quiver with amusement, but she shakes her head. "Not a chance."

"Can I do this?" he inquires, leaning in to brush a kiss over her mouth.

Her breath stutters with surprise, but she catches his face between her hands before he can draw back. "Yeah, you can keep doing that."

"What about coming home with you after work?" he murmurs, tilting his head to tend to her jaw, dusting kisses to the sharp angle of bone.

Her spine arches, breasts pressing against his chest, her entire body humming. "It could be arranged."

He nips at her earlobe. "Will you be my plus one for Ryan's wedding?"

Kate wraps her arms around his neck, hands coming up to furrow her fingers through his hair.

"You don't think we've had enough of those for a while?" she muses, turning to smirk against his cheek.

"Just as guests this time," he clarifies, his breath hitching as she nuzzles her nose to his cheek, so tender and sweet. It almost has him wondering where this side of her has been all along, but he's been receiving glimpses over these past few months, hasn't he? The smiles she reserves for him, the way her eyes light up when he walks into the bullpen every morning. They used to flush with dread and irritation, now they shine so bright they could illuminate the room. "No more playing bride and groom for a while."

"No more playing, period," she chuckles, sighing when he reclaims her mouth.

Her lips part almost instantly, welcoming his tongue inside with a soft moan he remembers from nearly a year ago, a sound that he's yearned for every night since he discovered it. The backs of her knees hit the mattress and her fingers curl in his hair as her legs begin to fold. His body follows obediently, arms winding around her, steadying her descent to the bed, and lying her down across it.

One of his knees falls between hers and Kate immediately folds a leg at his thigh, dragging him down on top of her. Her spine curves and he groans quietly into her mouth.

"You feel amazing," he breathes, bracing an elbow near her shoulder so he can hoist himself up, stare down at her.

Her hair is wild against the white comforter of the bed, a riot of brown and gold like the halo of her irises around the bleeding ink of her pupils. Her lips are swollen from her nervous biting, from the work of his own mouth over hers, and her chest is rising and falling with rapid breaths, her breasts straining against the lace of the chemise. Her scar on full display.

Castle bows his head to her sternum, finding the bullet hole in the middle of her chest with a reverent brush of his lips. Her hands cradle his skull and he trails his lips up the path of her bones to the pillar of her throat, kissing the hollow place between her collarbones before dusting his mouth to her chin.

"Love you." She shudders beneath him. "I love you, Kate."

He kisses her bottom lip, lets her draw him in deeper as he feels the corner of her mouth curl.

Her fingers rise to skim across his cheek.

"Mm, hurry up and make love to your fake wife then, Castle."

"_Beckett_," he chokes, but she's laughing into his skin, surprising him in all the best ways.

Kate kisses him, her smile dissolving amidst a moan he evokes, and he resolves to make her words true one day.

It's all so good, so breathtaking and surreal, that he forgets the entire reason they're here. He's pretty sure they they both do, until a bang on the door has Kate startling harshly beneath him. Her nails cut into his back and she's immediately squirming out from under him, towards the nightstand that holds her gun-

"Yo, Castle, Beckett, we got the creep," Esposito's voice booms from the hallway. "Hope you two are decent, because I got the extra key and I'm coming in."

Oh god, it's even worse than being caught by a serial killer.

"Shit," he whispers, scrambling off of the bed and towards their clothes. His pounding heart has him stumbling, tossing her his robe, kicking her silky excuse for one further into the bathroom and closing the door.

"Castle," she hisses just as the keycard swipes through the lock, beeping its approval.

He turns in time to catch the t-shirt she chucks at him, yanking it over his head and tugging it down to cover his bare upper body.

The suite's door clicks before Esposito is poking his head inside, glancing first to the bed, and then to Castle.

"Bro, what are you doing in your underwear?" he questions with a rise of his brow. Castle looks back to Beckett, sitting up against the bed's headboard, wrapped in the hotel's concealing robe with her legs folded beneath her, appearing utterly unaffected by what they were doing mere seconds ago.

Castle swallows, turns back towards Esposito with a shrug. Playing it cool like Beckett. "We didn't know if he was watching, had to be convincing."

"Oh yeah?" Ryan quips, trotting in behind Esposito with a smirk. "And uh, what did you two do this entire time, to be so convincing?"

Rick knows better than to answer that one on his own.

"Played cards," Kate answers, easing the top drawer of the nightstand open. "And did some light reading," she adds, holding up a deck of playing cards and a Bible.

Esposito rolls his eyes, but Beckett merely arches her brow in challenge, daring them to question her further. Which they won't. Maybe, now that she's his girlfriend - because he's totally going to call her that just to rile her up - she'll teach him how she manages to do that.

"Fine. Well, we caught the guy and figured out his way of getting into the rooms undetected," Esposito announces, nodding to the ceiling. "Air vents."

Kate flicks her gaze to the ceiling before returning her attention to her colleague. "In custody?"

"Down at the station awaiting a proper interrogation and confession," Espo confirms.

"Alright, let me change and we'll be right there."

"Sure you don't want to just question him in that?" Esposito comments with a smirk. "May actually get more out of him."

Her glare is enough to have Ryan shuffling out of the room, his partner following, closing the door behind them.

For a moment, Castle stands there, not sure what to say, if he should say anything at all or just start getting dressed. But then Kate is unfurling her legs from beneath her, climbing from the bed, and striding across the short distance to him.

He quirks an eyebrow in question, but she doesn't say anything, not before she braces her hands at his sides and arches on her toes to kiss him - chaste, delicate, promising. He didn't expect her mind to change within those last few minutes, but with the sharp slap of reality the boys brought, the reminder of the case, the real reason they were even here tonight... he won't deny he has his fears.

"Come home with me tonight," she mumbles, hands stealing beneath the hem of his t-shirt to span his spine. Her palms are warm, fingertips hot and branding every inch of skin she touches, and god, he wants to say yes without thinking.

He wants to stop thinking altogether. But he can't, not with her. He can't be too careful, can't mess this up; it matters too much.

"We could wait," he suggests, startling as one of her hands ventures lower, skimming along the curve of his ass. "Un-until Ryan's wedding. Just a few days away, could be like our first date-"

"It sounds perfect," she concurs, but her hand fails to move. "But I'm not waiting anymore, not unless it's what you need, Rick."

"Just need you," he confesses breathlessly, dropping his forehead against hers.

She touches her lips to the corner of his mouth. "Then come home with me after I collar this creep."

"You definitely know how to seduce a man." She smirks, the curve of her lips brushing his, but he's already nodding, giving in. "I'm ready when you are."


	5. Chapter 5

Time passes slowly at the precinct. Even as she grills their irrevocably guilty suspect, even as she manages to instill the satisfying crack in his denials and earns her conviction, everything seems to take hours.

The interrogation, the confession, the paperwork. It's past midnight by the time she's halfway through.

"I'm sorry, Castle," she sighs, burying her fingers in her hair. She wishes their perverted killer would have waited at least another hour, maybe two, to strike. She wishes she could go back to the elegant hotel room with him, slip back into that lovely piece of lingerie, return to the bubble they inadvertently created where the rest of the world didn't exist.

She has too much to prove, to both him and herself.

The wheels of his chair roll closer to her desk, his hand inching beneath the cover of it to touch her knee. She stares down at the drape of his fingers over the dark wash of her jeans. Thick, warm, and reassuring over the bone.

"Kate." She flicks her eyes up to meet his. They're a gentle blue, tired and calm, but alight. "We have time."

She huffs. "I know, but I wanted you tonight."

The skyrocket of his brow to his hairline is almost comical. It's strange, being so open with him, speaking her mind without thinking. She could probably tone that last part down a bit.

"Sorry, I know that was-"

"What? No, no, no," he murmurs, squeezing her knee. "Never apologize for saying things like that."

Kate rolls her eyes, but slips her hand from the surface of her desk, lowering it to layer over his. "You should head home for the night. I'll call you in the morning."

She watches his throat bob. "Even if we don't have a case?"

Ah, so that's still a sore spot for him then. Well, she can't blame him when her last words while she was in the hospital were a promise to call before she disappeared from his life for three months without warning. Without calling.

Kate squeezes his hand. "Castle, I'm not changing my mind. Not now. So go home, get some sleep. I'll do the same, call you as soon as I'm up."

"I better hear a sexy morning rasp in my ear first thing tomorrow, Beckett," he murmurs, narrowing his eyes on her.

"It's a deal." She maneuvers her hand to curl around his, another squeeze in lieu of a shake.

"I so wish I could kiss you right now," he sighs, staring mournfully at their hands. "That's going to be a reoccurring issue, isn't it? Wanting you all the time, not being able to do anything about it."

She hums. "Probably."

Their hands part ways and Castle moves to stand, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair.

"Rick." He looks up at her call. "You're still wearing your ring."

He glances down to the hand around his jacket, flexing his fingers. "Oh. Guess I just got used to the feel again."

Castle eases the gold band from his finger and holds it out for her. She opens her palm for him to drop it into, but instead, he deposits the ring into her hand without rush, grazing his fingertips along her palm, the length of her fingers. It's nothing, just a simple brush of contact, but after the past twenty-four hours, it's dizzying.

He draws his hand back with a smile, small and soft and hooking in her heart.

"Until tomorrow, Kate."

"Tomorrow," she confirms, curling her tingling palm into a fist as if she can trap the remnants of his touch there.

But she wishes she didn't have to wait until tomorrow. She wishes she never had to wait at all.

* * *

By the time he walks through his front door, the loft is dark and quiet, his mother and daughter already in bed. He finds a note from Alexis on the kitchen island and smiles down at her handwriting. She could have just texted him about the leftovers in the fridge and her hopes that the case with Beckett turned out okay, but he appreciates her pen-written words on a sticky note so much more.

Castle tucks the note into his pocket and opens the door to the fridge, allowing the cool rush of air to spill onto his arms while he trails his eyes over the shelves of food. He isn't hungry. He's wired from his last cup of coffee with Kate a few hours ago, after they got back to the Twelfth from the hotel; he's wired from his day with her, already yearning for morning and the promise of her voice in his ear. Already fearing that he'll wake to nothing instead.

She said she would call and he believes her. He does.

He believed her before too.

He sighs and grabs a bowl of grapes. Good enough. There's no way he'll be able to eat, no way he'll be able to sleep. No, not a chance. But maybe he can try to write. Cradling the small bowl in his palm, he starts for his office, Nikki and Rook on his mind. Maybe he can use today's events to create something for his characters.

But deep down, he already knows that it won't be Nikki on his mind, on the page, no matter how hard he tries. Kate will plague his thoughts as he stares at a blank document, his fingers spelling out her name across the keyboard by accident, until he finally gives in and succumbs to the call and comfort of his bed.

He won't sleep, but he'll drift in and out of dreams of her until the exhaustion finally kicks in. It won't be the first time he's cycled through the routine of it all. But he does wonder if it might possibly be the last.

* * *

She can't sleep.

Kate shifts onto her opposite side in the bed, curling the sheet to her chin and attempting to relax. She should be exhausted, should drop off right into sleep like always, but she's wired, wide awake.

Her eyes slip open, her gaze sifting through the darkness of her bedroom to find her phone on the nightstand.

She wonders if Castle managed to find rest after leaving the precinct earlier, if he reached the loft and was able to crawl into bed, fall into an immediate sleep like she yearns to. She wonders if he's still awake, tossing and turning over her, over their 'wedding', the hours that followed, like she is.

She wonders if he would answer the door if she showed up tonight.

Kate sits up in the bed, pushing the sheets from her skin and swinging her legs over the edge of the mattress.

She knows with certainty that he won't turn her away.

* * *

The knock on his door is urgent, quick raps that have him jerking from the light sleep he was drifting in and out of for the last hour.

Castle stumbles out of bed and through the office, rubbing at his eyes as he crosses through the living room to reach the front door. He doesn't think to check the peephole, simply unlocking the deadbolt and swinging it open to reveal-

"Kate?" he mumbles, blinking wide awake at the sight of Kate Beckett standing outside his door in what has to be the middle of the night, nearly morning, by now.

She pushes the softened waves of her hair, still clinging to the curls they were wound into for the wedding, behind her ear and offers him a nervous smile. The cardigan she's wearing is loose and knitted, a heather grey fabric with sleeves that slide down to her fingers and makes him want to wrap her up against him.

"What are you doing here?" he murmurs, his lips quirking even as his brow furrows. He doesn't care if the clock on the oven is correct and it's four in the morning, she's on his doorstep and she looks adorable.

Kate bites her lip before her eyes flicker to his, the hazel shade of her irises darkening ever so slightly to an enticing liquid gold.

She takes a step forward, those hands that looks so slim and small within the sleeves of her sweater rising to cradle his face, cool fingers draping at his cheeks. "I needed to tell you."

His breath catches, but he lifts his own hands to hers, curls his fingers around the bones of her wrists.

"Tell me?" he echoes, a little concerned, a lot intrigued.

Kate nods and leans in closer, her nose grazing the corner of his mouth, lips at his chin. His heart seizes. "That you were right."

Rick slips his hands along the lengths of her arms, fitting his palms to the rounded edges of her shoulders. "I was? Wait, about what?"

"The wall." He feels the fall of her lashes like feather soft kisses against his skin. "You're already inside, probably have been for a while now."

He dips his head to nudge his nose against hers. "Staying outside hasn't been an option for a while now."

Her throat bobs with a swallow, but she's nodding her agreement, her lips curling into a tentative smile against his chin. He doesn't want to make it dissipate, but he - he can't just let it go unsaid.

"You know I love you. You've known, before tonight."

She sucks in a breath, but doesn't hesitate for long, owning up to the truth he's been waiting for. "Since the funeral," she confirms with a nod. "I knew. I got scared."

"I get it, Kate. I understand being scared," he murmurs, fingers scaling to her nape, palms resting against the vulnerable flesh, thumbs brushing through the baby fine hairs there. "I hoped - I was just starting to worry that it was more than that, more than fear-"

Her head shakes, her jaw bumping against the heels of his hands.

"Fear that it was going to hurt, that I'd screw it up, that you - couldn't mean it in a moment like that," she explains, curling her fingers at his cheeks. "But not something more." She lifts her eyes to his, holds his gaze. "It wasn't the most ideal moment, but it... it was still reciprocated, Castle."

His heart is really being put through the ringer tonight, his lungs too. His entire system in overdrive the only thing convincing him that this is more than just a dream.

"I couldn't have meant it more," he swears quietly. "Bad timing for me to finally admit it to you, but I thought I was going to lose you and I couldn't let you go without saying it at least once."

She bites her lip and nuzzles in closer to him, hands grazing along his face as her arms move to lace around his neck.

"Tell me again," she whispers in his ear, drawing her body in closer, fitting so snug and wonderful against him.

Rick cradles her skull in his palms while he kisses her, slow and just soft enough to have her humming, tightening her arms around his neck and lifting on her toes for more.

"I love you," he rasps into her mouth, brushing the words against her parted lips. "Love you so much, Kate."

She sighs, a sound of contentment that he never imagined the mention of his love for her would evoke.

"So much that I'm going to marry you for real one day."

The respite turns to a huff of irritation that makes him grin.

"Shut up," she mutters, but she's smiling into the next kiss she presses to his lips and nudging him backwards. "I'm still wearing the bridal lingerie."

He gasps, but she's laughing, stumbling with him towards his bedroom. So good it has to be a dream despite how hard his heart is pounding. But then they're bumping into his office doorway and she's clinging to the collar of his t-shirt for stability, her smile so wide and real and all for him.

"Rick." His name in her mouth is like ecstacy, has his breath catching and stuttering in his throat. He loves her, she knows, and she loves him back. She doesn't have to say the words for him to feel that. "Be my plus one for Ryan's wedding."

"Yeah?" he grins, pressing her spine into the wall of a bookshelf, framing her hips with his wide palms as she nods.

"I can wait for our first date," she murmurs the compromise, rising on her toes once more. He hoists her into his arms without preamble, wanting her closer, as close as possible. Until her chest is sealed and her spine is bowing over him, her breath warm and whispering along his lips when she speaks. "But not for this. No more waiting for this, Castle."


End file.
